


Fucking Macaroni

by MyHeartOfHearts



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Acting, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Real Life, Tourette's Syndrome, social interaction issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-01 16:36:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17247677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyHeartOfHearts/pseuds/MyHeartOfHearts
Summary: “Jeez Trish, what took you so long?” The man glanced at the scrawny girl standing next to them, smiling as Trishia applied a bloody scab to his abdomen. “Who might you be?”Merrin tried to smile, but her teeth were biting into her cheeks so hard it came out more like a grimace. Trishia answered for her.“This is Merrin?” She glanced at the girl who gave the woman a nod. “She’s your Rachel.”He stuck out his hand, bending it around the makeup artist in front of him. “Well howdy, Merrin Rachel. I'm Jensen Ackles, welcome to Supernatural.”Merrin McKay has been cast as the new leading kick-ass woman on Supernatural, a dream come true that she thought would never happen. Merrin struggles to keep appropriate relationships with certain members of the cast while keeping her own fucking secret under wraps. Easier said than done.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER* I do not own Supernatural the show or the cast. This fic does NOT include Danneel Ackles or the Ackles children and I mean NO disrespect to her or her family. Danneel if you're reading this, I'm sorry and I love you and respect the hell out of you.  
> Also, everything I've written on Tourette's Syndrome is from reading and research that I've personally done. There are and most likely will be inaccuracies so if I offend anyone or portray it inaccurately, I apologize. With that, enjoy lovelies xx

Merrin had been cussing in the cab the whole way to the set, her driver casting weird looks every minute or so, the band-aids on her middle finger and thumb already wearing off. Her phone was forgotten next to her, the headphones wrapped around the case, the Smiths played without an audience. 

“Shit shit shit fuck tits.” Her neck craned to the side, emitting a pop as another round of grade A sailor's mouth came out, one more snap and the purple band-aid from her middle finger dropped to the floor. “Fucking hoarse tits mother cunt sucker.” 

Merin took a deep breath as they passed security check, stretching her fingers with purpose so she wouldn’t snap them. “Macaroni macaroni macaroni.” she enunciated each word with purpose, closing her eyes as the cab rolled to a stop. 

“You okay mam?” Her driver finally addressed her, meeting her gaze in the review mirror briefly before looking away. 

“Macaroni. How much do I owe you?” 

“No need miss, prepaid.” 

She shoved the almost forgotten phone into her bag and swung it over her shoulder, snapping her fingers three more times and smiling at the driver. “Thanks.” 

When she pushed the door open, a sight better than Disney Land greeted her. It was August in Vancouver, a chill in the air that was overcast by the bright sunshine. There were people everywhere, some holding clipboards and others dragging whole walls on wheels behind them. Someone ran by with an armload of flannel shirts. There were three identical black cars parked to her left, and what looked like a bagel station to her right surrounded by laughing people. 

Merrin knew from the email she had received where to go, but looking at this maze in front of her was overwhelming. She snapped her fingers seven times, biting her lip to keep from shouting. 

A woman holding what looked like a bloody scab in one hand and half a bagel in the other, seemed to notice her presence and hopped over. “Hey sugar, can I help with something?” 

Merrin cleared her throat, her stomach tightening to keep tics at bay. “Hi, I’m Merrin McKay. I’m trying to find Robert Singer.” 

The lady smiled and tilted her head, asking for more. 

“Oh! I have my badge, I swear I’m not a crazy person.” The frazzled girl started digging through her bag, letting her hand have a moment to snap its fingers five more times. “I was cast as Rachel Haze?” She pulled a lamented piece of plastic from the dark and thrust it towards the other woman. “My email said I needed to meet with Robert Singer and or Philip Sgriccia, and I have no idea where I’m going.” 

The woman’s eyes lit up, “Oh my god, yes! I’m Trishia Porter, I’m-” she waved the bloody scab thing, “I’m the makeup artist. Let me just call in and see where those buffoons are.” She shoved the half-eaten bagel into her pocket, swiping it out for a walkie-talkie. “This is Trish, can I get the 411 on S and S?” 

Merrin snapped her fingers a few more times, turning her head feigning looking around as the walkie-talkies cracked and beeped. 

“Hey Trish, S, and S are on the main stage by gate five. Also, do you have that bandage yet?” 

Trishia rolled her eyes, bringing the device up to her mouth. “Bagel break, be there in five.” She motioned for Merrin to follow her, and off they went. The lost girl tried to take it all in, listing things and colors and people in her head, mentally sewing her mouth shut so she wouldn’t list out loud the things she was seeing, followed by lots of bad words. She was focused on two guys hauling a set wall when Trishia seemingly came to a halt in front of her, causing Merrin to trip into the woman, “Fuck shit titties.” jumbling from her mouth before she could stop it. 

“You alright there pudding?” Trishia laid a hand on her shoulder, settling her from faceplanting. 

“Yes. I’m so sorry, I should have been paying attention. And I swear I don’t always talk like that.” She lied.

Trishia laughed, pulling out her bagel and taking a bite. “Don’t worry, we’ve heard it all here before.” She waved her bloody badge at someone behind Merrin. “Hey kid! I got your hurt!” There was a deep vibrating laugh and before she could turn and look, Jensen Ackles was standing in front of her shirtless. 

“Jeez Trish, what took you so long?” The man glanced at the scrawny girl standing next to them, smiling as Trishia applied a bloody scab to his abdomen. “Who might you be?” 

Merrin tried to smile, but her teeth were biting into her cheeks so hard it came out more like a grimace. Trishia answered for her. 

“This is Merrin?” She glanced at the girl who gave the woman a nod. “She’s your Rachel.” 

He stuck out his hand, bending it around the makeup artist in front of him. “Well howdy, Merrin Rachel. I'm Jensen Ackles, and welcome to Supernatural.” 

 

“My name is Robert Singer, director, and this is Supernatural season five, episode one, table reading.” 

A few people clapped and Misha Collins let out a shout. Merrin watched as each of the cast members went down the table and said their names. 

“Jensen Ackles, Dean Winchester.” 

“Jared Padalecki, Sam Winchester.” 

“I’m Misha Collins, I’m Castiel.” 

“Jim Beaver, Bobby Singer.” 

“Richard Speight Jr, Gabriel as I live and breathe” 

There was a moment of silence before Merrin remembered just how high up at the table she was sitting. She cleared her throat, snapping her fingers under the table and taking a deep breath. “Merrin McKay, I’m playing Rachel Haze.” And the line continued as if this wasn’t the greatest moment in Merrin’s life. She watched as the names continued down the table, her fingers tapping the tune of In Your Dreams by the Dark Dark Dark. Almost subconsciously, her body swayed a little as the music played in her mind. 

Richard shoved her shoulder, leaning in and whispering. “So, Rachel, you get to start the first season. You excited?” 

She looked up, making sure they weren’t interrupting anyone before she whispered back. “Just hope I don’t fucking fuck it up fuck.” She bit her cheek but not fast enough for the last fuck to escape. 

Richard let out a chuckle. “I saw your audition tape, it was amazing.” 

Merrin threw a hand over her face and sunk in the chair, letting out a low groan. 

Mark Pellegrino leaned in on Merrin’s other side. “Oh my god, you were the one who did the whole Office episode right? Very Michael Scott of you.” 

“I never actually thought it would get me a second audition, let alone the part.” She sunk farther in her chair, trying not to slide out completely. 

“You choreographed a dance to the theme song.” 

Merrin peeked from under her hand at Richard and the ‘hello’ look on his face. 

“That’s some dedication.” He laughed 

“How many people saw the tape?” She placed her hands on the table, continuing the rhythm to a song almost entirely lost by their conversation. 

“I’d say everyone at this table.” Mark chimed. 

“Disclaimer, I didn’t have the script at the time so I had to think of something that would set me out.” 

“You did great kid. Bobby couldn’t shut up about it, I think you nailed his version of Rachel without even trying.” Mark clapped a hand on her back before turning back to his script. 

The table had gone silent, and once again everyone was looking at Merrin. 

“Fuck cunt shit.” She sat up, trying to pass the cussing as natural potty mouth. A few people let out a laugh.

“That would be your queue to start Merrin.” Bobby Singer looked at her over his reading glasses, chuckling under his breath. 

“Fuck, right.” and Merrin flipped her script open, smiling slightly when Richard squeezed her shoulder. 

 

Every time Merrin thought she had the layout of the set, they would move locations. Apparently, season five needed a more natural vibe, each episode taking them here there and everywhere in Canada. Each time they arrived on a new location, her number one goal was finding a secluded restroom where she could tic to her heart's desire, strapping her phone and headphones to herself like life support. Arriving on set five minutes early, sometimes Trish or a PA trailing her as she let her body jerk and sway to whatever song was playing in her ears. Trish would put a hand on her shoulder to settle her, rolling her eyes and laughing as she smudged dirt strategically on her forehead, leading her arms to put on whatever wardrobe was appropriate. Surprisingly, filming was the only time she wasn’t as worried about an episode occurring. Once she was immersed in her acting, her hobby, her life, her shoulders would relax, hands falling to her side, and jaw muscles would unclench. She wasn’t Merrin McKay, twenty-four years old and broke, owing her whole life to an Office audition tape and Robert Singer who took a chance. She was Rachel Haze, the badass from Wichita Kansas who kicked ass and took names with Dean and Sam Winchester. But as soon as the director yelled cut, and Dean would return to being Jensen, Sam returning to Jared, Rachel would return to Merrin. All the held in tics and words and motions would bubble inside her stomach, making her feel like she was going to explode. Sometimes they would try to talk after the cameras had turned off, and she would watch their faces, first in confusion and then annoyance, as she bolted to her designated room or bathroom of choice, shouting “fucking macaroni cunt bitches purple purple bitches.” and wondering if they thought she was a stuck up and rude. Eventually, they stopped trying as hard. 

It had been three weeks of nonstop filming when the first incident happened. Merrin was tired, all of them going on two days of almost no sleep and continuous takes. Jared’s wife was on set, his children weaving in and out of her legs as they waited for their dad to finish the scene. 

“Come on guys, nail this and the day is over.” 

Jensen sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. Everyone was a little on edge, tired, hungry, and cold. The temperature had dropped that day, but since the season was in summer, the cast was all wearing thin t-shirts and raggedy jackets. 

“Merrin take your mark.” she couldn’t tell if it was a PA or Robert who was talking to her, but she took the X next to Jensen, shoving her rolled up headphones and phone into her back pocket, straitening her t-shirt so the bulge was covered. Somewhere behind a camera, Bobby called 'action'. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you made a deal?” Jensen, now Dean, was waving his hands and pacing around her. 

“Because you wouldn’t have let me.” Merrin followed the man's movements, crossing her arms and trying to get as much heat from the motion as possible. 

“You’re damn straight I wouldn’t have!” 

“Dean you’ve done this before, you said so yourself.” Merrin took her next X, walking over to a tree and slumping against it and sliding down. “Besides, you and I both know it’s the only way.” 

“If you had just told me,” he walked over to her, kneeling down and looking into her eyes. “I could have done something, there are other ways besides this.” 

“I didn’t want to make you chose.” Merrin, Rachel, reached out and touched his knee. “I know it’s always going to be Sam.” 

Jensen looked away, “You didn’t even give me a chance. I could have fought this, we could have-” His voice trailed off before he looked at her, leaning in closer. 

Merrin’s eyes snapped up to a bird that flew above them and realized she had missed her mark. “Fuck shit shit sorry.” 

“Cut! Everyone back to mark one.” 

The girl tried not to let her shoulders sag as she stood back up and walked over to where they had first started. Turning to Jensen before the cameras rolled, “Fuck fuck, I’m so sorry. I swear I won’t mess this up, Christ fuck shit.” 

He tried to smile at her, his eyes gazing past towards Jared on the side with his wife and kids. “It’s fine. But seriously, you might want to dial down the cuss words.” 

Merrin turned and looked at the children, feeling the need for another round of fucks. 

The director yelled action, and before she knew it Dean was pacing in front of her again, he turned back to her, an expectant look on his face and Merrin- 

“Fuck. Shit. I am so sorry.” She pushed a trembling hand through her hair, willing herself to be Rachel and not Merrin. 

“Okay cut!” Bobby sounded exasperated. “Guys take five. Come back with your A game, please. We have to get this shot before the sun goes down.” 

Jensen turned towards her, opening his mouth to say something, but Merrin was already off, trying not to run as she sprinted towards the building that had been set up as their dressing rooms and trailers. She rushed past a bunch of aids and straight to the bathrooms in the back. Rattling the door handle to the woman’s bathroom and then the men’s. “Someone’s in here.” Came a reply from the other side. 

“Fuck cunt bitch.” Merrin turned, stepping into the closest room to here, Jensen and Jared's dressing room. She comforted herself with the notion that both of them were outside and she had probably three minutes to get her tics out. “Bicycle rabbit bicycles. Bitch cunt fuck tits. Macaroni. Macaroni. Macaroni!” Merrin leaned her head against the door, closing her eyes and letting both of her hands snap, tilting her head to the side as random words flew from her mouth. After a moment, she sighed and took a deep breath. “Macaroni, fuck.” she reached into her pocket to grab her phone, knowing already what song she needed when her eyes landed on the tall man in the room. 

“My cousin has Tourette’s Syndrome.” Jared was sitting on a couch that took up most of the room, his phone in one hand and piles of clothes almost towering around him. 

“Tits fuck.” her fingers kept snapping. “Oh my god fuck fuck macaroni.” 

“Dude its cool, although this actually explains a lot.” his brows furrowed for a second before he looked back at her. 

“Fuck macaroni, please don’t- fucking cunt- please don’t tell anyone about- macaroni macaroni- about this.” Her hands were on autopilot, snapping and twisting as if the world depended on it. “I didn’t- fucking shit balls- think anyone was in here, I am so- macaroni- sorry.” 

Jared waved his free hand at her, a smile on his face. “You don’t have to explain. I get it, I mean, I don’t but, it’s cool.” 

She could feel her shoulders sink a little. “It gets worse when I’m tired. That and I think we’ve been –fuck macaroni- doing the same scene for three days now.” her fingers snapped a couple more times before coming to a standstill by her side. “Please Mr. Padalecki, don’t-” 

“Oh my god, Jared please, you don’t have to call me Mr anything.” He let out a laugh, putting his phone in his pocket before standing up. “I won’t say anything, don’t worry. You know where not awful people, no one would think anything less of you if you told them.” 

Merrin pursed her lips, getting off the door and turning the handle. “This is the one shot I have, and I can’t blow it.” She slipped out the door, closing it behind her and walking back to the set. 

Even though Merrin felt slightly better after getting her tics out, there was a stiffness in the air on set that made her wish she was back in the room shouting macaroni. Jensen wasn’t prone to frowning but she could tell from his body language when she stood next to him, that he was ready for this scene to be over. What little ease Jared had put into her was instantly zapped away. 

“Okay everyone, back to your marks.” 

Much to her surprise, the scene went off without a hitch, Merrin so focused on being Rachel and doing it right, it took a moment before she realized they had stopped, that someone had called it. 

“That’s a wrap on episode four! Don’t let me see your faces here again till Tuesday!” Everyone let out a sigh, Jensen finally dawning a real smile as he tussled Merrin’s hair. 

For once, the need to flee and let her tics out did not come over her. She watched as Jensen and Jared walked towards the building, Jared throwing a look over his shoulder, giving her a thumbs up before turning back. She could do this. 

Picking up her coat from one of the PA’s and exiting towards the lot, Merrin let go of the breath she didn’t realize she was holding. She stepped off the path, letting the assistants and background actors pass by her as she lifted her face to the sky and closed her eyes. 

“Merrin McKay.” 

She didn’t look but could sense Misha Collins standing next to her. “Hmm?” 

“We’re going to dinner, come on.” He pulled on her coat a little. 

She lifted her head and opened her mouth, “I can-” 

“No excuses.” his blue eyes sparkled as he tugged on her coat again. “We’ve been filming for weeks now and still don’t know anything about you, besides the fact that you have better hair than Jared and your dance skills, are A plus. And anyway, you can’t honestly tell me you’re not starving to death right about now.” 

There was no stress of perfection anymore, and she could hide in the bathroom as much and as long as she wanted. Merrin felt herself smile, tugging the coat tighter around her and nodding, following the literal angel as they walked towards the lot, towards his car. 

They were silent in the car until Misha got on the highway. 

“Where is dinner?” Merrin turned her head, squinting against the setting sun. 

“Everyone’s too tired to go out, so we’re eating at the house.” He glanced at the girl in his passenger seat before turning his eyes back to the road. 

“The house?” Merrin unintentionally snapped her fingers. 

“Oh yeah, well my family lives in Bellingham. Easier commute when filming. Usually Jared and Jensen stay with us. But since Jay’s family is here, they’re staying in a hotel closer to the airport. So it’s just Jen tonight. My wife is with the kids visiting her parents.” 

Merrin looked out the window, taking the information in. She knew the leading cast members were good friends, she also knew Jared and Jensen lived in Texas, so that solved on question she’d had. 

“Okay, now you have to tell me a little about yourself.” He turned the blinker and got into the middle lane. “The mystery girl with the Office audition tape.” 

Merrin groaned. “My dying legacy apparently.” 

Misha laughed, “It doesn’t have to be.” 

“Well, I took four years at a film institute in Chicago. Many, many, auditions, zero callbacks.” 

“Ah, Chicago. Explains the mouth.” he looked over at her, letting her know with his smile he wasn’t bothered. “What about your family?” 

“Don’t have any.” 

Misha looked sideways at her, his eyebrows coming together in a questioning expression. 

“I was in foster care all my life, got into college through scholarships, student loans, and the skin of my teeth. I’m kind of a nobody.” Merrin forced a laugh at the end of the sentence, trying to lighten the darker undertones. 

“Everybody is a somebody. Besides, not many people could do what you did. You put yourself through college, did what you love instead of taking an easier route, and now look at you. The opening shot of Supernatural season five. Robert saw your tape and stopped the process. He knew he wanted you right away.” 

Merrin didn’t say anything to that, Misha following her lead for a few minutes before clearing his throat. 

“So, what are you always listening to?” When Merrin didn’t answer right away, he continued. “Every time we get on set you always have headphones in.” 

“Do you want to hear?” She dug her phone out, knowing full well she wasn’t going to give him a choice, fingers already clicking away to find her favorite. 

Misha dug around in the car a bit, pulling out a cassette tape with a wire at the end, giving her one end to connect to her phone and sliding the other one into the car. 

The hyper girl wasted no time in pressing play and turning the volume as high as it would go. 

The Shins started blasting through the speakers, Merrin shouting at the top of her lungs as soon as the lyrics began. “Well this is just a simple song, to say what you've done. I told you about all those fears, and away they did run. You sure must be strong, when you feel like an ocean being warmed by the sun!” Shaking her head so hard to the beat that her brown hair fell out of its tie, swinging around her face. She could hear the man laughing beside her, hitting the steering wheel in time to the beat. “I know that things can really get rough when you go it alone! Don't go thinking you gotta be tough, and bleed like a stone. Could be there’s nothing else in our lives, so critical. As this little home.” as the music came to a fade, she slouched back in her seat, realizing that she had been flinging around so much her seatbelt had come off. 

“The shins huh?” the other man yelled over the ending chorus. “A little behind for you?” The next song came on and he shook his head, “Just kidding, isn’t this Tayler Swift?” 

“Hey, it’s good music. And yes, The Shins. That song always helps me feel not as nervous I guess.” 

“Hard to be nervous when you’re dancing that hard.” He grinned at her and she returned the gesture. 

“Exactly.” 

When they finally pulled up to a gated property, Merrin couldn’t help but twist her neck, sighing as her muscles tensed and then relaxed, her fingers snapping a couple more times. 

Misha pulled the car up to the driveway, motioning to her hands before he opened his door. “What’s up with that?” 

She acted surprised and snapped her fingers a couple more times like it wasn’t abnormal. “Oh, just a bad habit I do.” She laughed and extracted herself from the car before he could ask any more. 

The house was just as bright on the inside as it looked from the outside. Misha escorted her inside, kicking off his shoes in the front hall and inviting her to do the same. 

“You’re more than welcome to leave your stuff here, there are two bathrooms downstairs but the blue one, down there on the left-” he pointed down a dimly lit hall, “doesn’t have working plumbing right now. Feel free to make yourself at home, lord knows everyone else does.” He laughed and tossed his jacket and scarf onto the nearest surface and started walking away. 

Merrin hastily shed her layers and stumbled to keep up with the man before she got lost. The farther they got inside the house, the better it smelled. Finally popping into a brightly lit room that had the makings of a kitchen. 

“Christ you got those started fast.” Misha moved across the room towards Jensen who was bent over a stove, an apron tied around his waist and a spatula in hand. He glanced up from the burgers, eyes landing on the scrawny girl. 

“What up Mer. You are just in time for my world-famous burgers.” 

“World famous for heartburn.” Misha laughed 

Jen swatted at him, getting drops of grease on the floor. “I’ll eat yours, try me.” He pointed the spatula towards a stack of dishes on the counter. “The only rule is you have to pitch in.” 

She moved across the kitchen, grabbing as much as she could and looking around till she saw the table in the sunroom. Misha had already cracked open a bottle, grabbing the rest of the silverware and nodding his head as she headed towards the table. Her and Misha worked as a team, laying down plates and then silverware, napkins and then glasses. Jen came up when they were finished, setting down a pitcher of water. 

“Wow you guys are-” Merrin faltered, settling for waving her hand across the layout. 

“Thank my mom.” Jen laughed and went back to start grabbing food. 

Misha put his hand to his mouth and whisper-yelled, “Also he’s Texan.” 

“Hey!” There was a shout from the kitchen, “Heard that.” He came around the corner, a plate of burgers in hand. “Just for that, Y'all can get the rest of the food.” He sat down, popping the cap to his own beer, and lifting it in their direction. 

Merrin started for the kitchen before Misha grabbed her shoulders and spun her back. “Today you’re the guest, sit down and I’ll get the rest of it.” He made off, making clanking and banging noises as she took her seat next to her costar. She cleared her throat only once, a fact she was immensely proud of before she spoke. “So, do you guys do this often?” 

Jen took a swig, placing a burger on her plate before serving himself. “Homecooked not always. When Vickie is here, Misha’s wife, she always cooks dinner for the kids, we help when we can. You’d know if you bothered to stick around after the shots been called.” 

Even though he said it lightheartedly, Merrin felt a drop in her stomach and her throat clenched up. “Fuck.” She bolted up, nearly bumping into Misha as he came in with a bowl of potatoes in one hand and pees in the other. “Shit cunt sorry.” Her fingers snapped and she forced a smile, “Fuck sorry. Bathroom.” before nearly tipping her chair and bolting out of the kitchen. She retraced her steps, going to the bathroom Misha had said was broken. She didn’t need a working toilet anyway. As soon as the door was closed behind her, “Fucking hell for real fuck shit. Macaroni heartburn heartburn macaroni.” Her head twisted, knocking into the door. “Tits and horses hell.” After a moment she was silent, listening as somewhere inside the house the heater clicked on, voices low and then loud made their way through the door, reminding her where she was and who she had chosen to be. 

Merrin was diagnosed with Tourette's Syndrome when she was eighteen. Most of her group homes and foster parents had put up with her weird habits. If she was lucky, they would ignore her when she would blow raspberries into her hand and repeat their question several times in a row instead of answering it. Sometimes she wasn’t so lucky. Nevertheless, no one bothered to take her to a doctor, instead, the group homes giving her more choirs and smacking her upside the head if any foul words left her mouth. 

Then there was the Hollis family. That was her fourth group home. Two picture-perfect parents with their two picture-perfect children. They enjoyed her ‘quirks’ at first. They had smiled at her when she arrived, giving her a shared room with their daughter, warm pats and kisses on her head. They had taken her to church, giving her coloring books and a brand-new box of crayons. Sometimes the mother would take her outside so she could ‘have a break’. For her birthday they had gifted her a small grey mp3 player. Merrin had cried. They told her they loved her and wanted to adopt her. But she could see their expressions when she would burst in the middle of the sermon, or twitch her head in the grocery store, the way they pursed their lips and rushed their own children out of the room when she started saying fuck on repeat. Sometimes she would stay up at night, hiding under the covers, her headphones laying on the pillow beside her while she listened to them argue in the next room. Knowing that their smiles and promises would only last so long and take her so far. She stayed with them eight months before a caseworker pulled up to the house and took her away. They never said why, 

but she knew. 

On her sixteenth birthday, she got her first paying job and started saving every penny she got. On her eighteenth, she gave herself an appointment with a doctor. By that point, blowing raspberries had turned into snapping her fingers and cussing. She had walked out of the doctor’s office and cried in their bathroom for thirty minutes. Wondering how far along she would be if she had gotten diagnosed sooner, started therapy sooner, or even taken medication. Would she have gotten a family? Those thirty minutes was all she gave herself for feeling sorry. She wasn’t ashamed of who she was, but it was no secret that hiding her diagnoses got her farther along in life. No one wanted a waitress that told them to fuck themselves, she was smart and learned the word liability early. The school’s free guidance counselor had been a godsend, without her, Merrin knew she would have shit and tit and fucked her way out of school quick, besides, half the drama club did weirder noises than she. The times her tics did show, everyone chalked it up to the theater, method acting, and continued with their lines. Acting had turned into her safe space, being someone else almost made her feel normal, pushing her tics aside and replacing them with new tics, cussing turned into a high-pitched laugh of a southern girl she was playing, snapping her fingers turned into moving across the stage in big flowing motions. She had tried to carry these over into her own life, but the transition never stuck. Merrin had sent off many tapes and done many auditions in her time at the Film Institute. Although she knew she was rusty the few times, couldn’t count how many times she would erase a tape and start again, her neck twitching, cunt cunt cunt, spilling out. She also knew that if any of her tics showed in an unflattering way, she would not get a callback. Liability to a family, liability at school, liability in work. She wasn’t ashamed of who she was, but she wasn’t stupid. 

“Hey Mer,” there was a knock from the other side of the door, startling Merrin from snapping her fingers, their rhythm faltering. “Burgers getting cold, better not be too much longer or Misha might actually eat it.” 

She took a deep breath, looking at her tousled hair in the mirror and the bags under her eyes, whispering macaroni two more times before opening the door. 

“Listen, I didn’t mean any harm by what I said.” Jensen backed out of the doorway as she walked past him. 

She looked back over her shoulder at him as she made her way back towards the kitchen. “It’s fine. I understand.” 

“Yeah but hold on,” he grabbed her elbow, stopping them just before they entered the other room. “I feel like it came off as an asshole quote, and that’s not what I meant by it. It’s just, you’re an enigma.” he laughed a little, tapping the bottle in his hand. “Can’t figure you out, and you haven’t given us a chance, and I don’t mean that in a bad way either.” he backtracked a little, passing the bottle back and forth in his hands. 

Merrin was comforted by the fact that Jensen seemed nervous, if not more nervous and on edge than she was. “This is the first time I’ve ever done something like this, let alone this big. I don’t mean to be rude or vulgar, or an enigma.” She smiled this time, punching him in the arm. “Which I’m not by the way. I just have, weird habits and social interaction issues, apparently.” 

Jen laughed, swinging his arm around her shoulders and walking them into the kitchen. “Don’t worry kid, we all have that issue.”


	2. Chapter 2

As the season progressed, Merrin noticed a shift in the workers. A new director, Oliver Gardner, started taking over more and more of the filming, his rough build and thick-rimmed glasses showing up almost wherever Merrin happened to turn. His eyes would follow her, a look in them that made the girl’s skin crawl. 

“Bob’s working on the new season, they usually shuffle the directors around.” Misha shrugged when the question was brought up to him. 

“Yeah but I’ve never met him, is he-” her question trailed off, not sure where it was going. 

“He tends to keep to himself. He did a few episodes on season two and three. Doubt we ever got a proper introduction. He does his directing and then bounces. Reminds me of someone else I know.” Misha bumped her shoulder and smiled. “Now pass the fries, would you?” 

Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling that he knew something about her. When she showed up to set with her music in her ears, his scowl was so fierce she couldn’t help but pull them out, swallowing an apology. 

There tended to be a more professional taste in the air when he was there, the boys putting their pranks on hold, showing up fully dressed with their makeup completed. 

“He’s like the old man at church that you still have to call by his last name, even though you’re an adult.” Jared had whispered to her once, making Mer laugh. 

Oliver had looked over at them, his eyes staring into her soul. 

Merrin’s fingers twitched to snap. 

Jared had started letting her use his dressing room and trailer to release her tics. Looking annoyed anytime she tried to apologize. 

“Dude relax, I wouldn’t have insisted if it bothered me. Besides it’s what friends are for.” He kicked her foot from his chair across the room. “You have to start believing that people actually like you and want to help you.” 

“Is this because of your cousin with Tourette's?” 

“Did you just reverse pull the ‘I have a black friend’ card?” He looked at her seriously for a minute before bursting into laughter, Mer joining him. 

Merrin had started hanging out with her cast and crew more often. Having one of them know her secret made her feel almost free. She felt like she had someone on her side, someone who understood when her fingers started snapping and her mouth started running that it wasn’t in a malicious way, that when she bolted from the room mid-conversation, she wasn’t doing it to be rude. Having someone know and still want to be her friend and help her, was something she had never had before. Jared had made her feel comfortable, which in turn had made her more comfortable around everyone else. Everything felt like it was falling into place. If it wasn’t for Phil and his eyes following her, she could almost say she felt at home. 

He had started joining their table readings, sitting next to Bobby, sometimes subbing for him. His stern warning expression never faltering from his face. His presence added an extra bundle of nerves in the already mostly nervous Merrin, cuss words dropping when she would read her lines. Oliver would look at her with the same expression, sometimes Jared would give her a warm smile, shake his head and mouth ‘don’t worry about it’ 

“What’s up with you and Gardner?” Jensen asked her one day, in-between takes. Oliver had given them fifteen for food, grumbling about the weather conditions and the possibility of snow. 

“What do you mean?” Merrin shoved chips in her mouth, trying to finish so she could have five minutes at least, in Jay’s trailer. 

“You tighten up so much I’m afraid if I touch you, you’ll burst into confetti. 

“Beautiful analogy,” the girl swallowed a bite of food before babbled on, “but you are way off the mark.” she poured the rest of a bag of chips into her mouth and stood up from the table, catching eyes with Jared. “He’s the director, I just want to make sure I’m making a good impression.” 

Jensen chuckled, “Might be a better impression if you stopped cussing all the time.” 

“That would help wouldn’t it.” Mer tried to laugh, excusing herself and bolting to Jared’s trailer. As soon as she stepped inside, Oliver greeted her, sitting in Jared’s usual spot. The door slammed behind her harshly, almost but not entirely loud enough to silence the ‘fucking fuck shit’ that shot out of her mouth. 

“My apologies.” he got up, eyes never leaving hers. “I was under the impression I was in Mr. Padalecki’s trailer.” He walked towards her, stopping at an obscenely close distance to the girl. 

It almost felt like time didn’t exist in their small quarters like she wasn’t just sitting at a table with her friends only minutes ago. Every noise was amplified, her heartbeat sounded like galloping horses, an ocean in her ears of her own breathing. If this was a horror film, the killer would have found her by these very sounds. 

“It is.” Merrin was looking down, her hand reaching for the door behind her. “I was looking for him too, but I guess he isn’t here, I’ll just-” she turned her head to see where the latch was when she felt his hand grab her elbow, pulling her towards him. 

“Fuck shit what the fuck fuck fuck are you doing?” she squirmed, trying to get his hand off, but the grip only tightened. 

He stepped back far enough to pull her to the side, letting go with a forceful shove that banged the thin girl into the countertop. He walked out, turning back just as his frame filled the doorway. “I don’t appreciate foul language on my set when it’s not required. And try not to be so clumsy.” The door slammed behind him, leaving behind a visibly shaken Merrin. 

Her hands shook as she reached to look at her stomach. Snapping four times before lifting the fabric and looking at the long red mark the countertop had left. Blood had bubbled up to the skin in a line, yellow already forming behind the tissue. 

“What the fuck. What the fuck.” 

 

As time continued, Merrin found herself, much to her chagrin, running into Oliver, alone, more and more often. Around every corner, in every room, he seemed to be there waiting for her. Most time’s he would stay silent as she backtracked, mumbling an excuse and leaving as soon as she had come. But his eyes would follow her, she could feel it. 

“Okay, we got about twenty minutes to get this hair situation under control.” Trishia was combing through the knots on Merrin’s head, three bobby pins pocking out of the corner of her mouth. “I always give myself ten extra minutes when it comes to Jared.” She looked at Merrin through the mirror. “And I’m already fifteen minutes behind.” 

The girl smiled from her chair, enjoying the gentle feeling of the brush finally breaking through the last knot. “I’m more than willing to sit here for a while if you have to help him.” 

The woman set the brush down, spitting the bobby pins out and running her hands a couple times through the other girl's hair. “God, you’re a lifesaver. He’s still getting his bruises painted on, I’m sure he’s in the other room with Alex. I’ll be back in a sec.” She patted Merrin’s head, winking at her before disappearing. 

Merrin looked at herself in the mirror. Trishia had added three nice scrapes along the side of her face, dark rings under her eyes and a dollop of fake blood on her lip. She looked like a royal mess. Her fingers snapped three times before reaching out to the case of black contacts she was supposed to dawn. They took her eyes a good minute to get used to, often joking with her cast that it would be the only time they would see her cry. She was so focused on trying to get them in her eyes that she didn’t notice when Oliver entered the room, quietly snake behind her. He leaned on the back of her chair and she jumped. 

“You need to put your hair up for the fight scene.” 

The black contact fell out of her hand, landing on her lap and causing the girl to curse under her breath. Her eyes darted between the contact and the man standing in the mirror. “But Trishia said it was going to be down.” She scooped the contact up, placing it on the table in front of her. 

He got closer to her, if that was possible, his body pressing up against the makeup chair, causing it to let out a groan as he reached his hand past her face and grabbed a hair tie. “Is she the director?” His hands grabbed fistfuls of her hair, pulling back so hard that Merrin was facing the ceiling. 

“Stop, that hurts-” 

“I’m putting your hair up, if you can't handle this, you might want to find a new occupation.” He pulled harder and she was sure strands were coming out of her head, making her want to shout. 

But. He was just putting her hair up. She forced her eyes straight ahead, refusing to look at him, blinking back the stinging tears that brimmed to the surface. 

He did sloppy work, she could feel the tie loosen as soon as he had her hair up, strands falling out as he pushed her head forward and forced her to look at herself in the mirror. “There,” he pulled one long piece from the side that had escaped the ponytail, yanking so hard they Merrin’s head unwillingly craned to the left, brown pieces falling to the ground. “that’s better.” 

She left before Trishia came back, pocketing the chunk that had been pulled from her. 

Merrin wasn’t sure which emotion was stronger when it came to Oliver; fear or anger. Every time he interacted with her alone, something would happen. He put up her hair and she lost some, he would walk past and her and somehow, she would find herself on the ground or shoved into a table or chair. She was afraid of what he could, and would, do. And each time he did, she was angry. If interactions were games, she was losing this one. He never laid a hand on her, not directly. Everything was always an accident. She was not a weak person, but everything he did was so meticulous and precise it was confusing. No, he didn’t shove her outright, he walked by and bumped into her, sometimes muttering that she shouldn’t be so careless. It felt like he was pushing the limits and then standing back to watch what happened to her. 

“You’re putting me out of a job here, kid.” 

Merrin looked up from her phone, glancing at the bruise that Trishia was lightly brushing. “I’m a real clutz. What can I say?” She didn’t meet the woman’s eyes, fingers tapping away at a stupid game. Her mouth moved to form words and she snapped it shut. 

 

If anyone else noticed, they didn’t say anything. With the season coming to a close, most of the cast had vacation and family on their minds. 

“Mer, are you going to come tour with us on offseason?” Misha threw a breadstick her way, snapping her out of the song in her head. 

“Touring for what?” She brushed the crumbs of bread from her lap, peeking down at the dirty breadstick between her feet.

“Comic cons. Usually, it’s set up through the managers, we all go to the same states and panels if we can help it.” Jared pushed a piece of paper her way. A list of states, towns, times and hotels greeted her. 

“I got this gig through Uni, I don’t really have a manager.” She pushed the paper back towards the group of guys crowding the table, placing cutlery in both hands to distract from snapping. 

Jared pushed it right back. “So? If you can go and you want to-” he pulled a pen from his pocket, placing it on top of the paper. “circle the spots you’d be interested in, and we’ll call and have room’s set up for you.” 

Merrin tried not to smile, sucking her bottom lip and forcing a neutral expression. She grabbed the pen, circling every destination without even looking and thrusting the pen and paper back. When she looked up and saw the three men smiling at her she couldn’t help the laugh that came out. 

 

“Woah there, panda.” Jensen brushed up against her, setting the dinner plates down and pointing to a bruise that had formed on Merrin’s upper arm. “What’s up with that?” 

Merrin tried to pull her t-shirt down, almost to no avail as it bounced back up. “Just call me Grace.” she forced a chuckle, snapping her fingers under the protection of the dirty dishwater. 

“Okay then Grace, what the hell?” His fingers brushed over the bruise, gently, causing the girl to shiver unwillingly. “Looks like someone grabbed you.” 

Merrin reached to brush the hair from her face before realizing her hands were wet, stuffing them back down. She froze when Jensen did it for her, one callused hand coming up to brush the brown bangs from her face, tucking it behind her ear. His hand rested there for a minute, his thumb gently pressing so she had to look at him. “Did someone? Grab you?” 

Jared entered then, all noise and laughter, Misha hot on his trail. 

Jensen took his hand back, gone as quickly as it had arrived, even going as far as to take a step back. He cleared his throat, picking up the dishes Mer had cleaned, grabbing the nearest towl and drying. 

“Dude you have got to stop putting so much goddamn cheese on these things.” Jared threw some silverware over Mer’s shoulder, it landed in the sink with a clunk, water splashing out. “You’re going to kill all of us. I’m pretty sure Ricky boy is lactose intolerant.” 

“Doesn’t hold me down!” Richard bounced in, carrying his own load of dishes. 

“No one wants to smell that, trust me.” Jared punched the shorter man, shaking his head in disgust. 

Richard winked at the moose and they each let out a laugh. 

Merrin didn’t look at Jensen the rest of the night, but just like with Oliver, she could feel his eyes on her. His was different though because his look she enjoyed. 

And that evening when she returned to the piss poor apartment, she realized that for the first time in a long time, she had no urge to tic.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter is probably smaller than the others but I wanted yall to know I'm still here and I'm still writing.

“Hey what’s up with you, nervous nelly?” Jensen bumped Merrin’s shoulder with his own. 

They had just finished a table reading, the cast and crew carrying in boxes of pizza to celebrate someone’s birthday. Merrin thought maybe it was Adam, one of the makeup artists. But she too in her own head to ask. Her feet were shaking under the table, hands all too ready to snap. 

Oliver wasn’t there, which made the girl immensely thankful. He had walked out as soon as the reading had finished. Still, she was too busy to care. 

Her and Jensen had been hanging out more. Often at Misha’s house, while he was running around outside with his kids, Jared either joining or jetted off to his own wife and family. Merrin didn’t have much else to look forward to in her studio flat, so she found herself staying at the Collin’s house, helping Jensen clean up after meals, feed the chickens, and even binge watch stupid tv shows. The need to escape and tic lessoning the more she got to know them, him. 

“If I tell you, you have to swear you won’t laugh at me.” She looked up at him, her grey eyes meeting his green. Her finger incessantly picking at the skin around her thumb 

He got a very serious look on his face, lifting three fingers, “Oh, scouts honor.” 

Shoving him back, Mer let out a laugh before lowering her voice. “I’m nervous about filming the next episode.” she let the sentence hang, hoping he would catch onto what she was saying. 

The man’s face washed over with a confused expression. “Why?” He asked after a while. 

Mer was glad then that she could behind the safety of her bangs, letting the brown hair sweep over her eyes and looking down into her lap. “Dude really? You’re going to make me say it?” 

Jen laughed a bit, and out of the corner of her eye she could see his hand come up like he was going to touch her face, but he must have thought better and returned it to the table. “Because it’s the first time Rachel and Dean kiss? Don’t worry about it, kissing on screen is about the same as real life. Except you know, you’re surrounded by people and cameras and lights.” he chuckled a bit. “Don’t worry, it’s just like reading lines. It’s all in the character. You’ll do fine.” 

The girl sighed before clearing her throat, her voice getting lower as more people started surrounding them, the smell of pizza and beer in the air. “Yeah well, I haven’t done either.” 

He wasn’t saying anything, so finally, Mer was forced to look through her hair. She could feel her face tightening, the want of a nervous smile to grace her, feeling the red blossom on her skin. She could see him opening his mouth, getting ready to say something when, 

“Guys seriously, I’m going to fuck Richard up if he keeps eating cheese.” Jared pulled up a chair next to them, sliding a slice of pepperoni pizza towards Merrin. 

Just like that, the bubble was broken and Merrin felt the need to tic. 

It was still early, the sun not even beginning to set when filming was finished. Everyone excited for the three days they got off, the crew waving at the young girl as she made her way towards the lot that held her car. She was fishing the keys from her bag when someone tugged on her arm. 

“Hey, can we talk for a sec?” It was Jensen. 

She looked around the lot, avoiding his eyes. “I thought you and Jared had to finish up some scenes?” 

“Yeah, we had to stop because of the weather.” Almost on instinct, both of them pulled their coats closer as tiny snowflakes fell around them. “Come on, I’m freezing my balls off.” He motioned for her to follow. 

Merrin forgot about her keys as she walked behind him, trying to step in his footsteps as they approached his trailer. 

Quietly, as if not wanting to scare her off, Jensen shut the trailer door behind them, throwing his phone on the couch and grabbing two beers from his fridge as Mer stood in the middle of the room. 

Jensen didn’t sit down, instead opting for leaning against the counter in the small space, reaching across the space to hand the girl a cold PBR with the cap already off. She returned his gesture, unzipping her coat and leaning against the couch behind her. 

“So, I was hoping maybe I could help you feel less nervous about the next episode.” He was talking in bits and pieces, clearing his throat in between words. 

Maybe it was his chopped-up sentence or the fact that he had just handed Merrin her eighth beer that day, but the girl felt oddly relaxed in their tight quarters and weird situation. “How?” she all but laughed, taking a big gulp of PBR. 

He eased up after picking up her mood, crossing his feet and taking a swig of his own drink. “Okay, I’m not entirely sure. I mean what do you normally do to relax?” 

Mer looked around the room for a second, her eyes landing on the elaborate sound system. She licked her lips, handing the beer back to the man and digging her phone from her pockets. “I’ll show you.” She threw the words over her shoulder, plugging in the device and hitting shuffle. 

Jen watched as the girl in front of him stripped her jacket, bouncing to the rhythm coming from the stereo. “Okay but if this is Taylor Swift count me out.” 

She gave him a look before rolling her eyes. “Christ, Misha can’t keep anything to himself. Also, if you don’t know who this is, I don’t want to be your friend anymore.” 

“We’re friends?” He got a shocked look on his face before laughing, depositing their beers on the counter and joining her in the middle of the room as Queen played in the tiny space. He stepped foot to foot next to her, moving his head and making faces that brought Merrin’s ugly laugh out. Circling each other as the chorus came on, they shouted at the top of their lungs along with Freddie Mercury. 

“God knows! GOD KNOWS I’VE GOT TO BREAK FREE!” 

Somehow his hands had ended on her hips, both of them yelling in each other's faces. When the song ended and Jensen opened his mouth like he was going to say something, forehead resting on hers, Mer simply put one hand over his lips, shaking her head as the next song came on. 

“Not yet.” She felt bold when she winked, bouncing in time to the next song. He danced with her, even though she was fairly sure he didn’t know who Twenty-One Pilots were. 

It was only after the fourth song did she sit down, grabbing her phone and turning the music down. Brushing the hair out of her face and catching her breath. “And that is what I do to relax.” 

Jensen flung himself on the couch next to her, letting out a grunt as he propped his feet on the coffee table and kicked off his shoes. “So that’s what you’re listing to on set?” He phrased it as a question but it came out a statement. 

Mer graciously took the almost forgotten beer bottle from him, nodding and tipping it back. “What did you think it was? Podcasts?” 

“I mean, I too dance when listening to Alex Jones.” 

“Ha ha, motherfucker.” She barely got the words out before Jensen was leaning over her, pressing his lips to hers and gently brushing her hair behind her ear, cupping the side of her face. When he pulled back, they stayed silent. Mer smiled as she switched playlists again and grabbed Jen’s hand, pulling him up with a grunt, for another round of dancing. 

 

As the days passed and filming started winding down, neither Merrin or Jensen talked about the kiss. Still, she enjoyed the feeling of his arm around her shoulder during reading or the idea that he would choose to sit next to her for lunch, his thigh pressed against hers. Every contact they had, no matter how brief it was, brought waves of butterflies to Mer’s stomach. The girl controlled her emotions though. Her deadpan face greeting anyone no matter what position her and Jen were in. Especially Oliver. His eyes would glance to wherever Jensen’s hand was resting, wherever they were touching. He said nothing, but the girl could still feel a shudder go down her spine. 

 

“Really Rachel, I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I have no clue what to do, none!” Jensen was storming around ‘Bobby’s kitchen’ a fake beer in one hand. 

“All we have to do is get the colt back,” Mer was sitting at the kitchen table, trying not to let the harsh studio lights bug her headache. She stood up and strode over to ‘Dean’, placing a hand on his shoulder. “We had it once, we can get it again.” 

“Why do you have so much faith in this?” 

“Not this, you.” Making her point she stuck one finger into the middle of Jensen’s chest. “I have faith because damn Dean, what else are we going to do? Sit back and let good pal Lucifer win?” 

This was it, Jensen leaned closer, eyeing her mouth as the camera roll clicked on. Before their lips touched Oliver yelled cut. 

“Can we have lighting turn this up. It’s dawn people, not dusk. Also, Merrin please visit the makeup department, you’re looking a little washed out.” 

Only Oliver’s eyes followed Merrin out the makeshift house, the knot in her stomach worsening. He had been leaving her alone, something that was almost worse than him tailing her. Making the young girl wonder when the other shoe was going to drop. 

When she returned, more powder on her face and a chance to tic while Trish was getting the straightener for Jared’s hair, she felt ready for the scene. 

And Oliver let it happen without a hitch. 

As soon as she felt Jensen’s lips touch hers, she almost forgot she was playing a character, taken back to the night in his trailer. Wondering how she had gone so long without it, and if she would be able to breathe after. When she pulled back and saw the expression on the man’s face, she knew he had felt the same thing. 

This time when Oliver yelled cut, they had gotten the scene. Jared, Misha, Jim, and Mark, whistling and clapping on the sidelines. 

Jensen found her once again in the parking lot after work, swinging one arm around her shoulder. “Hey, can I catch a ride with you? I was running late this morning and rode with Misha and he’s going to the movies with Vicki.” 

Mer gently scooped herself from under him, finding her keys before addressing the man. “Can you catch a ride with Jay? I was just going to go home tonight.” 

The other shoe had dropped, Oliver finding her hiding out in the reading room, finishing off a slice of pizza and rereading that episode's script. He hadn’t been nice, commenting on her kissing technique almost like he knew she had never done it before, it felt mocking but Mer had just sat there and took it. She hadn’t escaped with a few choice bruises either. Oliver once again commenting on her clumsy state. 

Jen got a shocked look on his face. “And to think I was going to make steak for you!” 

Mer bit her lip to keep from laughing or cussing, she wasn’t sure which. “Thanks, but I’m not really hungry.” 

“That’s alright, I just wanted an excuse to talk to you, really.” He hooked his fingers through her belt loops, pulling her close to him, and once again Merrin was taken away by the taste of Jensen’s mouth. It was like her whole day revolved around his taste, everything in between was dull and grey, her job, her apartment, even the bruises left by the director seemed dismal in comparison. When he kissed her, she felt like she was coming alive. Like air wasn’t real air until Jen was pushing it inside her. 

She leaned back and looked at him under the parking lot lights, the ring above his head making him appear almost angelic. “You know, I think I’m getting better at this.” 

He leaned in and kissed her again, his hands traveling up and supporting her back when he leaned away there was a smile on his face. “Practice makes perfect.” 

They didn’t have any filming for the next three days, a winter warning taking hold of Vancouver, the promise of lots of snow on the weather channels. It was one in the afternoon when Jensen called Merrin’s phone. She was sitting in an abandoned corner of Starbucks when the shrill ringtone went off. 

“What’s up buttercup?” His cheerful voice filled her ear, unconsciously making her smile. “Enjoying the weather?” 

Mer looked outside, watching as thick flakes fell and collected on every surface available. “Reminds me of Chicago.” 

“I bet. Listen Misha is throwing a party at his tonight, him and Vickie are celebrating their anniversary. Anyways, we’re inviting a bunch of people, and you are a priority VIP. What do you say?” 

The girl took a sip of coffee, mulling over the idea of throwing away her Friday to stress. “What’s the dress code?” 

“I want to say, not jeans or t-shirts.” 

Mer laughed, “So black tie?” 

Jen joined her. “Yeah okay, that’s one way to say it.” 

“I would say yes,” She got up, slinging her bag over her shoulder and ducking out of the shop, taking note of just how much snow was falling. “But, and this is going to be a real shocker, I suck at driving in the snow and I don’t want to get stuck.” 

“Hey, no worries! I’ll pick you up!” 

“Wait, hold on that’s not-” 

“No no,” he interrupted her, “it’s fine! I’ll get you at five tonight. And you can tell me why a Chicago native can’t drive in snow.” He laughed one more time before disconnecting the call, leaving Mer to stare at her phone as snowflakes collected around her fingers. 

“Fucking fuck.” 

 

Merrin stared at herself in the mirror. She had gotten one fancy piece of clothing, using the extra cash from her second check to buy an outrageously expensive red Christian Dior gown, that now that she was looking at, might be a little to showing. She shifted in the mirror, pulling at the top so her boobs were a bit more concealed. “Fucking tits.” Everything else on her was off-brand, her thrift store shoes shining nicely with the dress, fake diamond earrings waving through her hair. She opted for her grey leather jacket, pulling it over and hiding the bruises that had formulated around her shoulders, the dress doing a perfect job of showcasing all the scrapes and scratched on her back as well. She had caked as much coverup as she could, hoping it would stick and that no one would look to close. 

Merrin was already on her way outside, not wanting Jensen to see exactly where she lived, when her phone went off, a text signaling his close arrival. Actually surprised to see just how much snow had accumulated, Mer almost lost her footing stepping out, the streets completely covered, the sky already glowing from the reflection of city lights on clouds. She had barely made it outside when a black Tesla pulled up, windows too tinted to see who was inside. Mer knew it was Jen though, he flashed his lights once and pulled up beside her, rolling down the window and leaning over to look at her. 

“Damn Chicago, you sure know how to clean up.” He pushed the passenger door and signaled her to step in. 

“Thanks, I think.” She shimmied inside the car, careful not to step on the trail of the dress. Barely getting the door closed before Jensen accosted her lips with his. “Is this the new way to greet people?” 

Jen smirked, pulling her in for another kiss before taking the car out of park and scooting out of the lot. “Just for you.” 

The normal twenty-minute drive to Misha’s took an extra thirty minutes, Jensen going slow and almost getting stuck twice. When the finally pulled up to the now crowded house he hopped out, magically appearing at Mer’s door. 

When she stepped out an outrageous amount of snow greeted her, coming above her heel and soaking into her tights. “Christ are we all going to get trapped here?” Shaking one leg and momentarily leaning against Jensen to check the strap of her shoes. 

Jen got a funny look on his face as he slammed the car door shut, stepping closer to the girl. “Here.” And before she knew what was happening, he had thrown her over his shoulder, ass in the air and facing his back. 

“Motherfucker!” She squirmed a bit as he carried her up the steps and under the awning of the porch. As soon as he put her down, laughing at the red expression on her face, she hit him twice in the arm. “Don’t fucking do that without warning me!” 

“I didn’t think you would have been on board.” he brushed a hand through her hair, shaking the small amount of snow that had taken residence. 

“No shit fucking shit, Sherlock.” 

The Collin’s house was more alive than Merrin had ever seen, a triumphant noise of piano music and singing greeting the two as soon as they opened the door. The coat rack was already overflowing, along with the two chairs placed by the entrance. Jensen didn’t hesitate to fling his suit jacket on the pile, expectantly looking at Mer to do the same. 

She pulled him closer, lowering her voice a little. “Okay tell me this dress is okay to wear right now.” She flashed him, ripping her coat open for a second before bundling up. “It’s the only black-tie dress I have right now.” 

The older man looked like he was going to say something for a minute but opted for clearing his throat a couple times. “It’s perfect.” He proceeded to watch as she removed the jacket, flinging it over his own. Face going a little bit red before he averted his eyes. 

Merrin figured the whole cast and crew were fit inside Misha’s house, everywhere she went she was accosted by familiar faces, people raising their glasses at her., touching her shoulders as she passed through crowds. Jensen had been sticking pretty close to her side, but at one point she had lost him. Winding up in the den with Jared and some of Misha’s friends, drinking her fourth jack and coke, the room getting warmer with each passing minute. She had wanted to get up but was too afraid of falling on her face. The more she drank the less need to tic, it was a comfort she wasn’t used to. 

“He didn’t even realize that it was on his face for like twenty minutes!” Jay had finished a story he was telling, a roar of laughter taking up that Mer joined in, even though she had no clue what the man had just said. 

Everyone had gone back to talking and telling stories, Mer leaned closer to Jared, hoping her intoxication wasn’t too apparent. “Hey do you have your phone on you?” 

He nodded at the people talking before turning her way, “Yeah,” grabbing the device off the coffee table in front of them and passing it her way. “Passwords one-two twenty-seven.” 

With shaky fingers and blurring eyes, it took Merrin three attempts before she got the code right, clicking the message icon and typing in Jenson’s name. She typed her location and a request, bringing the phone closer to her face to make sure there weren’t any spelling mistakes before hitting send. Time passed by like molasses and before she knew it Jen had appeared next to her, holding a glass of what she hoped was more jack and coke out to her. When her hand snatched out, missing the bottle by a foot, he squatted next to her, smiling. 

“Are you drunk, Chicago?” 

She motioned for him to come closer, sticking her mouth next to his ear, one hand on his shoulder for balance. “So much. Can you help me outside?” 

He laughed and nodded, trying to take the glass from her hands but failing. “Okay, maybe we should stop on the drinks then.” He hauled her up, easily putting an arm around her waist to steady her. He said something that to Jared that she couldn’t make out, fingers playing on the phone to make herself look more natural. “Okay kiddo, let’s get you out of here.” 

She could tell that people were trying to talk to her as they weaved in and out of crowds and rooms, she didn’t know what Jensen was saying to them, too busy looking down at the phone in her hands, focusing on moving one foot in front of the other without tripping. Mer felt them get outside, the cold air hitting her like bricks a second before Jensen had draped a coat around her shoulders. 

His arm still around her, one hand gently pushing her head so she looked at him, a huge grin breaking out on her face. “Lightweight.” he teased, tweaking her nose and making her burst out laughing. 

“Not true, I drank so many of these.” As if to prove her point she slammed the coke down, barely getting it all before Jensen wrestled it from her hands. 

“Okay maybe no more then. Let’s get you home, shall we?” He held onto her tighter, pressing her body into his as he lifted her off the ground and carried her back to his car, the tiny girl laughing into his chest the whole time. 

“My hero!” When she looked up, his face was swimming, and when she leaned in to kiss him, she had to keep her eyes open till their lips met. 

When they were both in the car, Jen buckling her up and revving out of the driveway, Mer turned her body to face him, placing a hand on his upper thigh. “Do you think anyone could tell that I was shit faced?” she laughed again, leaning over the armrest and placing her head on his shoulder, the seatbelt digging into her side. 

“Nah, you did good kid.” he reached over ruffled her hair. “Even Jared seemed surprised when I had to rescue you.” 

She gasped, sitting up and digging her hands through the layers of her dress before pulling out the phone and landing herself another round of laughter. “Oh my god. I totally stole his phone.” 

“Speaking of having things, do you have your keys?” 

Mer put the phone down, and dug around the car a bit, opening the glove compartment and fishing out the keys. “Sober me is smart.” She waved them at Jensen, before placing them in the passenger door. 

The ride to her house felt shorter even though logically Merrin knew it wasn’t. The snow was almost a foot high, snow plows already out on the streets, break lights reflecting through Mer’s drunken haze. 

She didn’t recall the rest of the drive or even the walk to her apartment. She knew if she was sober, she would never have let Jensen Ackles into her crap shoot studio apartment. But she was so far gone the walk up the stairs would have been more of a tumble. Her word’s slurred as she asked him to help her out of the dress, having already kicked off the heals as soon as she entered the apartment. She could feel his warm hands on her back, before she realized there was a t-shirt being pulled over her head. Once the dress was off, she had to hold onto Jensen as he directed her legs into a pair of sweatpants. He was saying words but Mer was too far gone to understand. When he tucked her into her bed, she grabbed onto his arm, using all the strength she had left and tugged on him. “Please stay.” He tugged back, words falling from his mouth but Merrin just kept repeating “please” over and over. And when he finally laid down next to her, she switched her “please” to “thank you thank you thank you” curling up in his side and pressing her nose to his neck.


End file.
